Hilton Head Island: why; two endings; two poems

With occasional exceptions I avoid answering:  Why do you sail?  I have found that people either understand instinctively or they never will.  And beyond that it appears to me that as a species we have evolved by being better at answering 'how' than 'why'.  Yet in rereading STORM PASSAGE I came across the following which is as good an answer to why I have sailed and lived as I have as any.

Also from STORM PASSAGE the ending of Part 1 written just after I returned to San Diego in March 1975 after my first two attempts at Cape Horn failed because of rigging damage.

And the end of Part 2 when I had successfully become the first American to round Cape Horn alone and had completed a two stop circumnavigation in world record time.

I do not delude myself that I have conquered the sea; it is enough to have faced it.  And I am more proud that I continued to struggle against defeat than of my ultimate victory.  To struggle was in my control: victory in that of chance.

(You know that now I would not have claimed 'victory'.)

"Resurgam", I said, and now I must learn the Latin for 'I have risen.'  "Time and chance and Cape Horn:  I am still coming at you," I said, and I kept coming until Cape Horn was mine; and for one brief moment in my life, time and chance subdued.  "Victory or death," I said, and though death often seemed the more likely, finally it is victory.  "Wind and waves of torment cease," and for a while they have.  "Sail to the limit," and I sailed beyond.  "An ordeal of grandeur," I said, and it was.  It truly was,

In Auckland, Suzanne I attended an exhibit of Chinese art.  One of the objects was a figure holding aloft thirty-two concentric spheres, only the outer half dozen of which were visible, all carved from a single piece of ivory.  The satisfaction of the artist upon completing carving all thirty-two spheres and knowing that each--even the innermost which would never be seen--was perfect, is the same as that of a man who completes a solo circumnavigation, who fulfills any dream, even though no one else ever knows.

I smile to myself as EGREGIOUS sails slowly across the dusky harbor, and beyond the sea-etched face of the man, a small boy grins because he has made his dream come true.

        Egregious man, boat, voyage, life.

        The fool smiles and sails on.

In looking for something else I found screenshots of these two poems.  I  don't recall posting them before, but may have.  If so they are worth reading again.  

I do not know who wrote the second.